Take Me With You When You Go
by 324b21niehaus
Summary: AU: After being pulled apart from the person who mattered most to her at age seventeen, Cosima Niehaus' life fell apart in more ways than she could comprehend. Half decade of nightmares and 3 additional years of trying to pull herself together later, she's forced to face the lie that gave her false hope & the pain of knowing it came from the one person who vowed to always love her.
1. Chapter 1

The twenty sixth of June. It should have been like any other day, just one that would come and go like the ones before and after it. It was a lie Cosima Niehaus told herself every year, on that one particular day. It was a day that should have stopped being important nearly eight years ago. However, come late June, year after year, for eight years, she drew her marker from the mason jar on her desk and with a pursing of her lips and the quiet screech of the felt tip on the laminated calendar, she scribed two diagonal lines intersecting, exing out another day that had come, but could never overcome the particular swelling in her chest that surfaced only on the twenty sixth.

It was the one day when every memory of her old life would come rushing back, the one day when it wasn't bits and pieces. That day in particular brought with it more than the thought of_ her_ at the sight of a golden retriever puppy, or the taste of her lips with every sip of coffee. It brought with it the vivid scenes, the memories that played like movies on the backs of closed eyelids, the crying, the screaming, the hurt, but mostly, the lie.

_"On your birthday?! He just expects you to throw your things into boxes in a matter of hours and just… just… what?! You can't leave Seattle… You can't leave me. F-for what? Because it's his shot to give you everything he couldn't since you were nine?!"_

_"Cosima! Enough!" Delphine gave a thorough attempt at keeping her tone even, but Cosima could see the conflicting emotions in her pained but gorgeous emerald gaze. "I don't want to do this, but I have to." Her voice wavered at the sight of Cosima's quivering lip, her heart leaping into her throat._

_"Del, please," Cosima managed, though her words sounded foreign as they tripped out of her mouth. "I can't do this… any of this without you."_

_Delphine's face fell and she stepped forward, reaching up to cradle her girlfriend's jaw in her palms. She, of all people, knew the hells they had come from; her own father had moved her to Seattle before her tenth birthday from Paris after a nasty divorce with her mother. They'd come to America with little money and so the best Jacques Cormier could do for his daughter, and for himself, was no better than the far side of the tracks. He'd always had faith in Delphine and had raised her to the best of his abilities, but like any youth in her situation, she wasn't immune to the natures of drugs and physical, sexual attractions. One of the first friends she made in Seattle had been the… eccentric girl from down the street, the one who was constantly reading or tinkering with things, the one who scrunched up her nose in an attempt to get her glasses up higher on the bridge of it, only to fail and heave an exasperated sigh. Being friends with her had come easy, but as the years wore on, even Delphine knew there was no point in denying what had grown between them. Looking into those honey-almond eyes, knowing that she had to say goodbye with everything they had been through in mind, it broke her heart, every inch of it, resonating into every last inch of her limbs. They were only seventeen, they still had so many years ahead of them. It would only be a year until she turned eighteen, until she could come back for her best friend, her cherie. Her thumbs brushed gingerly along the scape of Cosima's cheekbones, the pads of her thumbs absorbing the few tears that leaked out of her eyes. Delphine tilted Cos' head up and met her gaze evenly, hating how red and swollen the other girl's eyes were. "I promise you," she started, being cut off as she heard her father calling her name from down the street, "I will come back for you."_

Promises didn't exist; they were, more often than not, empty and not worth their weight in hope. That was something Cosima had learned the hard way. Her mind and her heart felt heavy, weighted, as she parted from the calendar hanging on the wall and headed toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for work. She had faced her own struggles in the wake of Delphine's absence; her seventeen year old self hadn't been well quipped to handle such a sudden departure, and she'd been getting along well on her own, but it took the blink of an eye to turn that completely on its head.

After a long, hot shower, Cosima stood in front of the mirror, her eyes falling to just beneath her left breast and the small, round scar that had made its home there. It brought back a whole slew of unwanted memories, of a six month chunk of missing time, six months of her life that she would never get back. All she wanted, all she had ever wanted or expected in leaving Seattle for San Francisco, for Berkeley, running away on a scholarship, was to start over and not have to look back. It was to leave behind all of that horrible shit and focus on going to school, focus on getting her Masters and moving to another country entirely. Being in school and living on her own, though, came with its own complexities, requiring her to be able to pay her bills while still attending college. The job at a high end catering company that ran out of downtown San Fran had been a blessing, more than she could actually put into words. She worked with good people; they were all a bunch of college kids struggling to pay bills with cynical senses of humor to parallel hers perfectly. At the same time, it was rather amusing to work with such a group of people and yet, the duties of their job often entailed working for people that were worth about five times their paygrade.

At the end of some events, usually the later ones, Cos would find herself gathered around with Britta, Janelle, Quinten, Kaleb, and Lennox, all huddled in a tight circle in the bed of Lennox's pick up truck with a bottle of one fifty one going from hand to hand on one side of the circle while a pearled blunt made its way around opposite, circling around the left hand side. It was a great cap to end most nights, and it was in good company, something Cosima knew she could not get enough of, especially wish such a gaping hole in the core of who she was, one that had resided for eight long years. Filling her time with making jokes and excessive eye rolling as they bagged on the uptight clients they tended to work for was a seemingly decent way to pass her free time; it was so much easier to immerse herself in a world that was so different from the one she had known for so long than to try and act like she was whole, as a person.

With a finishing swipe of eyeliner and a slight adjustment of the bowtie around her neck, Cosima gave herself one last glance in the mirror and her lips immediately perked up at the corners in a bit of a self-satisfied smirk. For having to wear a formal outfit for such uppity events, she had to admit that she pulled it off rather flawlessly, bowtie and all.

The trolley ride to Quinten's kept her mind occupied well enough, though she wished that she had been able to take her thoughts out of the past long enough to enjoy the day, the beautiful weather and not the fact that they were probably going to be cramped up in some large office space or mansion with expansive real estate that they could only admire from afar.

After everyone had arrived at Quin's, they did a head count and loaded into his too-large, un-eco-friendly SUV and set out to meet the other half of their staff at the event location of the day; some multi-million dollar home in Sea Cliff. "Isn't this for the um…" Cosima reached into the back, snapping her fingers to get the attention of her friends, "the uh, Ericksohn Corporation? That corporation that spearheaded diagnostic practice and medicine research?"

"Yeah, but it's not for the actual business. Some huge birthday party or something." It was Lennox who spoke up and Cosima shrugged, figuring it to be a fair answer.

Upon arriving, it was much of the same basic pre-show set-up, or at least that was what they called it. Every event was nothing more than a show, a magic trick that they all needed to pull off flawlessly. No matter what happened, or how things came to pass, the show had to go on, no matter if it meant improvising or just getting by on the seat of their pants. Whatever the issue, whatever the inconvenience, they remained a well-oiled machine, working as one instead of as individuals.

Nothing, however, could have prepared Cosima for the day that was just waiting for her, mere moments ahead.

She had been carrying in crate after crate packed with bottles and that ridiculous packing material that was oddly similar to really dry, really long grass. What was the point of it? Her mind had started to wander, as it often did, and she was completely unaware of her surroundings, like the back door as it opened and shut, and someone came shuffling into the kitchen. Cosima had set down the crate and turned back for the last one when she, quite literally ran into the person she had been entirely oblivious of, the same person who was glossed with sweat and donned sport attire, the same one who had pulled back to shut the refrigerator at the same time Cosima moved to cross her path, causing a collision that sent her into the edge of the counter, her hip bone hitting it in a way that caused her jaw to tense and her knuckles to turn white as she gripped the edge of the counter. "I'm so—" she had started, lifting her head to face the victim of her task-driven, momentous force. Before she could finish speaking, though, all color seemed to liquidate out of her face, leaving her skin a pale, delicate white.

The runner, the woman who had fallen into the path of Hurricane Cosima lifted her head, a few loose curls falling down to frame her face, which was flushed by the effort of her previous task. Her doe-eyes and perfect complexion would have been enough for Cosima, but the moment those lips split into a smile, the brunette was sure she was going to faint. It wasn't possible. It couldn't _be_possible. The odds weren't that likely, they just didn't fit.

It was as if she had been standing on a railroad track, her foot caught in the tie, stranding her, keeping her still and immobile, watching as the light got brighter, as the tracks rattled and began to shake. It was like seeing it coming and yet, still not being able to fathom the idea of impact. "Cos—_Cosima?_" The way the sounds of her name rolled off of the tongue of the blonde woman a foot in front of her were absolutely unmistakable.

She blinked up at the figure from behind her spectacles, a sudden burst of flame shooting up from the very depths of her heart and her stomach. It was. It had to be.

_"D-Delphine?"_


	2. Chapter 2

In her twenty four and a half years, Cosima had never believed in ghosts, not until that very moment. Perhaps it fell far from the traditional sense of the word, but that did not make it any less real. There, a little less than twelve inches before her very face, stood the ghost of a future that should have been, a future that never came to fruition. She was all too quickly jolted into a surreal construction of what she had considered a possible future to be like in her imagination. For a split second, she was in a reality where her girlfriend came home from her morning run, but she didn't mind that she was flushed pink and covered in sweat. She subsided in a parallel universe where they would bump noses and share a chaste kiss before Delphine sauntered off up the stars to shower, where she would inevitably be followed.

Just as quickly as it had come, her imaginary world evaporated in a quiet sigh in response to Delphine repeating her name, followed by a hushed '_I can't believe it's you._' Any happiness that her daydream had to offer was instantly demolished by the wrecking ball of reality. This woman, whoever she was, however she carried the same name and face, was nothing more to Cosima than a complete stranger.

She would have thought that the same conclusion would have been reached on the opposing side, though she was mistaken. The truth was, she was just as much of a stranger to Delphine. The woman that stood in formal suit dress for work in the middle of a kitchen in a multi-million dollar mansion was in no way the same girl Delphine had abandoned all that time ago. Gone were the wild brunette curls that danced in the wind of a cool night by the river. Gone were the taped up, bent thick frames that were nearly falling apart as they hung on her face. In their places came tight, dark dreads that swung over her shoulders, and thick, sleek spectacles that perched perfectly on the bridge of her nose, keeping the dexterity and cunning contained in her burning gaze.

In an unknown rush of unpleasant sensations, it felt as though every last bit of blood drained from Cosima's face; she was floored, shocked by the fact that for once, her memories weren't entirely unwarranted. Not a moment later, though, her neck started to flush a dark red and it slowly ascended, her ears gaining color before it slipped onto her cheeks, spilling over like a tipped glass of red wine, staining everything in it's path. She had gotten to a point in her life where she had resigned to moving on, to making a better life for herself, and she had been doing a rather decent job at that, at least until that moment. She felt like a lost child again, like she couldn't begin to explain which way was up and why. Every inch of her body was screaming, yelling at her to move, to breathe, to do absolutely anything, but she felt stuck.

Delphine's hands clutched desperately, tightly at the waterbottle between them, causing the plastic to crinkle. What did she do? What was she _supposed _to do? She'd never imagined that this day would come, or that she would have to find it somewhere in her to be completely honest about the things she had done— or, rather, not done— and how it was probably going to make things worse than they already were. Now, though, was not the time. Instead, she, too, was a little stranded in thought. What was there to say? That she was sorry? She knew Cosima would have absolutely none of it. What she had not been anticipating, though, was that a conversation was the absolute last thing on Cosima's agenda. As Delphine was still attempting to compile her thoughts, she was rattled out of them as Cosima simply turned and started to walk away. Instinctively, the blonde's hand shot out and touched the soft skin of the other woman's wrist, though she made no move to take hold of it.

As if she had been bit by a viper, Cosima's hand instantly retracted toward her body and she hissed in anger, her eyes narrowing as she spun on Delphine. "Don't," she snapped, a wildfire burning recklessly in her eyes.

"Cosima, please. I just want to talk. We just need to talk." Delphine's words were as desperate as the look in her eyes, the one that screamed she wanted to mend fences and reconcile the past with the present.

"_We_ don't _need_ to do _anything,_" Cosima countered, her jaw tight and her teeth grinding. Looking at her, just taking in how rigid her posture was and how locked up she seemed to be, Delphine realized that this ran far deeper than she understood. Something had changed in her first love, and it was a sickening realization to comprehend just how truly different she was. "Now if you don't mind, I have a job to do."

"You're different," Delphine stated stupidly, desperate to just keep Cosima's feet in one place for even a moment. It worked, as Cosima whipped her head around, her cheeks so red that they rivaled street signs with bright white letters that read STOP. "You… you look d-different.. and…" Before she could go on, just filling the space with hot air to prolong the inevitable, Cosima had clearly had enough.

"Because I _am _different. You know my name, and you know my face, but I can _promise_ you that those are the _only_ two things you know about me." Her words fired so rapidly, with so much firepower that it caused Delphine to step back, bumping into the cool metal of the refrigerator. Cosima followed suit, closing a bit more of the space between them. "We're not kids anymore. We don't all reach the destination of adulthood on a cushioned pathway like you did. Some of us had to grow up the hard way." _  
_

With that, Cosima turned on her heel and stomped off out of the kitchen and out the back door, leaving Delphine reeling. She turned and leaned forward on the counter, dropping the plastic bottle to the marble surface as it rolled away from her, apparently like much in her life had always done, sliding just out of reach. Never once in a million years had she ever considered the possibility that this would ever happen, that she would have to own up to the decisions she had made, the lies she had told, and the person she had hurt.

Just like Cosima said, they grew up. It wasn't her fault that her path had been a little easier to traverse and she could not be made to feel guilty for it. Moving to San Francisco had bettered her life. Was it unfortunate that Cosima was lost in translation? Absolutely, but Delphine had been… well, young and dumb. She had let the money go to her head, let the parties eat up so much of her time. She finally felt important, special, like her contribution to the world, even if it was just a good time, was valuable. With that came the attention. Despite having found a special connection with someone in her childhood, it was moving to a better place and _being _in a better place that offered her so much more in the form of interpersonal relationships. She got lost in the sex, in the men and the women that seemed to know her name only because of the size of her trust fund and because of who her step-mother was. It hadn't mattered to Delphine, though, so long as it helped her out-run the problems she had left behind.

As Cosima made her way down the hill of the back yard toward where the truck and Quin's SUV were parked, she was still absolutely fuming. How in the name of all that was unholy had that even happened?! Why hadn't it dawned on her before that one moment, that one _fucking_ moment, that she _knew _somewhere deep down where it was they were going. It didn't hit her until she was staring into the eyes she never expected or wanted to see again that it was real; Melissa Cormier- Ericksohn, founder of the Ericksohn Corporation. Of _course. _She had never felt so stupid in her life, so impossibly stupid.

For a few moments, it almost felt as if the universe was just playing some impossibly cruel joke on her. She would walk back in there and she would realize that the woman inside was just someone who reminded her of a past life she never wanted to go back to. She knew, though, that not only was that naively hopeful, but it was entirely unrealistic. She was to face this, or, well, walk off and get fired. Could she really give Delphine that kind of power again, the power to control what became of her life? Could she risk the only way to pay her rent just because she was a coward who couldn't work through an uncomfortable situation? _It's so much more than that, and you fucking know it,_ she scolded herself, kicking at the grass angrily.

"Hey! I thought you were carrying in the cham— Woah woah woah. What happened, Sparky?" Lennox's voice got progressively quieter as he came around the corner of the truck and spotted her, but then got a better look at her. She wanted to smile; Lenny was a good guy. He looked like he'd walked straight out of a wooded forest, with his mop of short, dark blonde curls and the fuzz of the same color that covered his chin and jaw, but he had the most remarkable blue eyes, ones that almost carried an unnerving ability woven into the fabric of his nearly translucent iris. She knew that his humor was often misinterpreted, but she got him on another level of comprehension. More than that, though, when he called her Sparky (which he affectionately dubbed her one night at a little get together where she sparked up at least four joints in the first hour), it almost made everything else seem unimportant. He was like the brother she could have used in her youth, the one she had always hoped to have in another version of reality.

"What are the chances boss man will let me go home sick?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as she fidgeted with her fingers.

"Jamie probably won't have any of it, especially after the heating trays weren't in the back of the truck. Britta's probably going to get fired for that one." Cosima's face fell and she averted her gaze, knowing that if he saw more than she wanted him to, he would start prying. Instead, he jogged over to Quin's car and rummaged around in the back, pulling something out before he stashed it away in his jacket. As he jogged back over toward Cos, she could see the glint of the metal flask and her lips parted in a small smile. "I'd ask what was wrong," he'd started as he sidled up to her, producing the flask, "but we both know you won't talk until ten hour from now when we're all about to pass out on Quin's floor."

With an agreeable smirk and a nod of her head, she slid her hand into his jacket and took the flask from him, taking a quick but full pull of the liquid inside, her face puckering sourly as a burn snaked down her throat. Her lips smacked together and she returned the gift discreetly, looking up at him. "I'm too damn lucky to have you as a friend, you know that, right?"

He beamed down at her, but rolled his eyes. "Of course I do, but who else is going to put up with you and your little kitten-style temper tantrums?" He gave her a gentle nudge in the side with his elbow and nodded his chin up toward their range of domain for the evening. "Now, whatever's gotten to you? Let it be the reason we have the best service we can manage, so then, we can all get shitfaced and celebrate just how damn amazing we really are."

She hesitated for a moment, knowing just how difficult the night ahead was going to be, but looked up at him, a promise brewing in her eyes. "Let's kill it," she agreed, "And then, just saying, but you owe me an entire damn bottle. I'm going to need it."


	3. Chapter 3

"Del?" The word was barely audible over the tapping of knuckles on the cherry oak of her bedroom door, causing her head to lift in response as the door gave way just slightly, clearing enough space for Dominic Jacobsen, Delphine's 'right-hand-man,' so to speak, to poke his head in, his jet black hair coiffed perfectly in a way that allowed his bright gray-blue eyes to sparkle in the light, and that ever-so-charmingly toothy grin grew to illuminate his face. "We have to go pick up your dress before the party. Are you—" He stopped, one foot still on the opposing side of the threshold. "—okay?"

Despite her resolution to not permit what had happened in her kitchen that morning to ruin her day, she couldn't seem to stop dwelling on it. When she stood in the shower, closing her eyes beneath the flow of warm water, all she saw was Cosima's face, the way her eyes flashed and how her lip quivered, just barely, probably beyond her control. She was still just as stubborn as she had ever been, and it caused Delphine to be fully aware that establishing any line of communication was going to be next to impossible, but not quite there. Wiping a thumb beneath her eyes, she glanced up at Dominic with a half-assed attempt at a genuine smile. "I'm fine," she lied immediately, without hesitation, to which Dominic rolled his eyes and stiffened his posture, his arms folding tightly over his chest.

"It's your birthday. You're about to get drunk with a bunch of people who are going to give you money and gifts that you don't really know _or_ care about. I am struggling to see what could possibly be wrong here." The way his posture slacked as he spoke and he edged toward her until he could slide a hand onto her back transformed his words, reassuring her that he _did_ understand that something could be wrong, even if he was not fully informed of why.

She was quiet for a few long moments as she sat on the end of her bed, trying her hardest to keep from looking him in the eye, from granting him access to see inside of her heart and soul, to strip her down to nothing but the fear, loathing, and regret she had burning so vehemently inside of her. "Have you ever…" she started, stealing an abashed glance up at him before her eyes fell back to her own feet, "Made a promise you couldn't keep?"

Dom's face fell as he moved to take a seat next to her, his arm draping around her shoulder as a form of comfort and support. "Of course I have," he admitted quietly, hugging her tighter to his side. "I promised Jefferson that he would come home from his tour, and that we would buy a house together. Somewhere in the south, somewhere we could go hunting one day and waste hours on the beach the next. I promised him that he'd be okay, and four months later, he wasn't." Delphine knew all too well how hard it had been on her best friend, losing his other half, because she had been there every single night that he had needed her, armed with ice cream, tissues and more wine than even she could recall. "You know better than anyone, though, Del, that there are just some promises that life can't allow us to keep."

He didn't know, though, she reasoned with herself. He didn't know that she could have kept it, that she chose not to. She was the one who made the conscious decision to stay where she was, to move on from the life she had left behind and to embrace the things she had been handed. She had never thought that things could ever possibly come around full circle. She was able to bury her guilt for so many years on end by telling herself that she was never going to see Cosima again, and that if that were true, it would never have to hurt. She was beautiful, resourceful, but most importantly, she was so impossibly intellectual that it was absurd. Surely, she would have found her own way out, her own way to make a better life for herself. Even more than that, she was _so _beautiful and gifted that Delphine had convinced herself that someone more deserving of everything that Cosima was would have come around by now, and that she would have a happy life, a life where she got all of the good things she truly deserved.

Dom gave her side a light pinch and squeezed her closer to him. "Now come on, no more moping! This is a special day! I mean, it's not _every_ day that you turn a quarter of a century old. Now, get your little booty in the shower so we can go get that dress of yours and get this shindig started. It's going to be one hell of a night, I promise."

Delphine's lips gave a slightly diagonal tip, pulling up on one side in a half-assed attempt at a smile, and the other falling down just slightly at the realization that his words were most likely too true, given her current predicament, and she was far from sure of how to handle that. "Yeah," she breathed with a sardonic chuckle, "I'm sure it will be."

* * *

"Alright, alright, shut up you guys, this will only take a minute." The gathered staff quieted down and turned their attention to the slender, bald tower that was unnecessarily making himself even taller than everyone else by standing on a milk crate.

"Come on Jamie, out with it!" Lennox heckled from the back, earning an elbow to the ribs from Cosima. "_Ow__!_" he hissed lowly at her, eliciting nothing but a cheeky grin and a warning not to piss off the boss, or they'd be the ones getting stuck on dish duty.

"Oh, can it, Lenny," Jamie bantered back, causing a few of the others to chuckle. "Alright, assignments! Kaleb, Britta, Janelle, Sean. You guys are on service."

"Who didn't see that one coming?" Kaleb joked, throwing a paper cup that landed prematurely at Jamie's feet. Janelle, in all five-foot-one-inch of her mightiness, swung upwards, connecting with the back of Kaleb's head, tousling his ginger mop.

"Knock it off, would you?" she requested, and Kaleb nodded, offering an apology to Jamie, who simply laughed it off.

"Cosima, you and Quinten are on drinks," he announced, causing the two of them to high-five in excitement. "Which leaves…" Before he could finish, Lennox stepped forward, faux-flexing his arms as if he were hot shit, a grin ridiculously canvasing his face.

"Mixmaster Lenny behind the bar." Everyone erupted into laughter and alternated shoving him around playfully.

"You're such an asshole," Cosima muttered over his shoulder as she stood on her toes to get as close to his ear as possible, but her smile was clearly audible in her tone.

"Alright, _children,_" Jamie taunted, clasping his hands together. "Let's have a good night. Don't make me fire any of you, yeah?" In response a dying chorus of 'yes's fell from everyone who set about prepping for the service accordingly.

As they dispersed, Lennox's eyes fell on the bespectacled brunette and how she so desperately lacked the normal bounce in her step, the swagger in her stride. It was difficult for him, seeing her so distanced from her normal self, from the girl who laughed and made incredibly inappropriate jokes during Jamie's assignments. He could tell that something was eating away at her. This was more than the simple conversations of how she missed her family, or what was left of it, No, this was something she didn't even want to begin to explain to him, which was strange for their friendship. Lennox had been there from the moment Cosima had showed up in the city with nothing but the things in her backpack and a bit of money in her pocket.

_"Hey there, y'alright?" Lennox's grip loosened on the half-full and entirely-full coffee cups in either of his hands, slowing his stride as he approached the thin, dreadlocked brunette that sat with her knees to her chest on the curb of the street. _

_His approach startled her and she jerked her head up at his inquiry, very obviously giving a hearty attempt at keeping herself together. There were red rings around her eyes and the very tip of her nose matched in color. "I've had better days," she joked sadly, a dry laugh just barely passing through her lips. _

_"You uh… You just move in?" he questioned politely, slowly moving to take a seat on the curb next to her. He figured it was a better approach than towering over her in the heat of the day, though giving it a second thought, she might have preferred it. _

_"No… I was trying, but, as it turns out, most places don't want to rent to you when you don't have a job. And it's kind of hard to get a job when you don't have a place to live." Her hands waved frantically with her words as her pitch hiked and her nerves got the best of her. _

_"You're not from around here, hm?" He asked her, holding up the full coffee cup for her to take. She hesitated a moment before reaching up, thanking him as she accepted the offer. She shook her head as a formative answer to his question._

_"I left Seattle three days ago. Bussed it down here. I guess I just thought it wouldn't be so hard to get a place, you know? I just wanted to take a shower." As he watched her, he could see something in her, a struggle that she was attempting so hard to win. She wore her distrust and her guard like a set of armor for the world to see. As her eyes met his, for the first time unblocked by the sun, he could so clearly see the trials and tribulations that had brought her to that particular moment in time._

_"C'mon, then. I've got a place you can crash until you get a job. And as it turns out, I might be able to help with that, too."_

"Don't do it," Cosima warned, an eyebrow hiking over the rim of her glasses. Her nose tipped toward the ground and her honey-almond gaze found his blue one as he slid behind the bar.

"Do what?" he posed innocently, his brows shooting up in alarm, as if he had no clue what she was talking about.

"Don't dwell on it. I'm trying not to. And you don't even know what 'it' is. So drop it, yeah?" He heaved a sigh and gave a nod, turning his focus to prepping the bar.

Cosima stacked several of the glasses side by side on the bar top, making sure to polish them off if they seemed a little less than bright. The truth was, despite her cool exterior, she was burning hotter than a kiln inwardly, hardening her heart until it cracked. She was so angry that she was there, of all places, and that she needed this to pay her rent. She was, once again, albeit unknowingly, reliant on Delphine for survival, and she absolutely loathed it. It was never a place she wanted to go again, never a spot she thought she could ever possibly find herself in once more. No, she was better than that on so many accounts. She had gotten herself this far; this was just another job, just as Lenny had pointed out. She would get through the night, and then drink it away to forget it ever happened.

She put a bit of a shine to the silver tray she would be donning for the night and tilted her head up, her chin high as Lennox loaded up her first tray for the evening, the guests already starting to pour in by the fives and tens. The more people that showed up, the more Cosima's stomach ached and twisted and knotted over and over again. She was starting to get it. She was starting to understand why Delphine never came back from her, and it just made her even more angry. She had the perfect life, a life that they would have absolutely killed for in Seattle. She got what she wanted, and she didn't want to risk being pulled back into anything less than perfect.

When she thought she'd gotten her fill of understanding for the evening, though, she had been making a round through the courtyard when the inevitable happened and Delphine caught her eye. There was a rather handsome man doting to her left and yet, at the same time to her right, a beautiful red haired woman was nestled into her side, looking rather content. As Delphine's eyes connected with Cosima's gaze from across the room, though, she instantly stiffened, shying away from both of her suitors.

The longer the night drew on, the more Cosima simply wanted to crawl into a dark cave and whither away to nothing. She just grew angrier, but that anger came from another place, too. She realized that the reason she was so angry was because she was… well, jealous. That realization only infuriated her. How in the _hell_could she be _jealous_ of Delphine? They weren't in grade school anymore. They were children coveting each other's possessions. Cosima had rightfully worked her ass off for every single thing she had and she was proud of that fact. There Delphine was, though, not having had to work for any of what was being handed to her.

Cosima's head had been so distant away from what she needed to be doing that she was not even mindfully present as someone in front of her backed up, slamming into the front of her, causing the tray in her hand, which held several glasses of cabernet to tip inward, the seven remaining glasses dumping all over her white blouse, though some managed to soak the black vest over top it. Her hands were trembling as she surveyed the damage, lifting her head up to identify the culprit.

"Of course," she managed with a hostile laugh in her throat. "Of course it would only be _you." _Her glare narrowed at Delphine, who looked much like a deer caught in the headlights, though an apology was hanging, clinging to the tip of her tongue. She went to let it go, but before she could, Cosima was huffing and puffing up a storm, and blowing right past her.

"Cosima! Cosima wait!" With each syllable, with each repetition of the way her name was so accented rolling off of Delphine's tongue, she just wanted to scream louder and louder. "Cosima, I didn't mean to! Please wait!" Like crossing over into the eye of the storm, Cosima halted so abruptly that her upper body rocked forward, the momentum still carrying her on her path ahead. As she spun around so quickly that her dreadlocks flared out around and behind her, Delphine's face fell and her lips pressed into a thin line, trying to get the best read on the situation at hand.

Cosima's blood was positively boiling, and it showed. "What the fuck do you want, Delphine?!" she cried shrilly, her voice so impossibly distressed. "I can't talk to you. I don't want to talk to you. I don't even want to be here, and I wouldn't be if it weren't for the paycheck. You've already ruined my day, okay? What more do you want from me?!"

"I want…" the blonde started, holding her arm with the free hand in front of her body as a sign that she was unsure what to do with herself, now that they were in a lone hallway, isolated from the party in the back. "I want to give you another shirt to wear. I might have a similar vest as well. Please. Let me do one thing for you, because I am sorry."

"Yeah? For what? Actually, no, I don't have that kind of time. Can you just get me the damn shirt?"

Delphine gave a curt nod. "Oui." She motioned for Cosima to follow and the woman obliged, trekking right behind her up a flight of stairs and down another long hallway into what Cos immediately presumed to be Delphine's bedroom. She made a beeline for the closet, leaving Cosima awkwardly positioned in the middle of the room to wait as she rummaged around through the, presumably, thousands of dollors of clothing she owned to find a replacement for Cosima's destroyed outfit.

There was a part of her that couldn't help but letting her gaze wander. A snide part of her, taking in Delphine's figure from behind, couldn't help but wonder how much her dress cost, or how the earrings that dangled from her lobes could probably pay Cosima's rent for the next two years. She got a lifestyle that they had only ever dreamed of, and Cosima hated that it hadn't included her.

"Aha!" Delphine exclaimed, standing up straight as she produced both the shirt and best, nearly identical to the wine-stained ones Cosima was currently sporting. Without a moment's hesitation, Cos started to undress, perhaps a part of her being more than just passive in her anger toward Delphine.

"Cosima! Patienter!" Delphine cried, startled— for seemingly no reason other than… well, it was Cosima. It wasn't like it was anything she hadn't already seen before, but something about it seemed so intimately lost that she wasn't sure how to react.

"Oh please," Cosima managed with a roll of her eyes, shedding the blouse and vest in a wet heap on the ground before taking the replacements from Delphine. "It's nothing you haven't seen before." _Ugh,_Delphine groaned inwardly, _I hate it when she knows what I'm thinking like that._

As Cosima started to shrug on the blouse, Delphine's eyes snuck around to steal a glance, despite herself. However, she paused, hesitating as she spotted something… well, that she _hadn't _been aware of before. "That is," she managed dryly, her mouth a bit dry from how much alcohol she had consumed prior. Her hand extended as she stepped closer to Cosima, closing the space between them down to next to nothing. A few more of her fingers extended and brushed the small, round scar on Cosima's rib cage. "What happened?"

Instantly, Cosima angled her body away from the other woman's touch, but didn't actually move to put distance between them. A sshe looked up into those mesmerizingly beautiful eyes, she felt it— yes, she felt the anger, but she felt the sadness and the heartbreak and the caught of each and every one of those things: the love, however much she hated it, that she had for Delphine. No, she was still angry, and no, things would never work out for them, but it was becoming harder and harder trying to battle the confusing an incapacitating war of emotions raging on inside of her. "You don't have the right to ask that question," Cosima answered back lowly, her voice quiet and husky, rough and cutting. However, she took a step into Delphine and took hold of eithr side of her face.

The shock was instantaneously scribbled all over Delphine's face like a child's drawing, but there was a growing part of Cosima that just couldn't stop herself. She closed in and pressed her lips roughly to Delphine's, kissing her harshly and urgently, like she was indulging in a pleasure that was so impossibly wrong for her, and she was right. She knew that she was right. Delphine had hurt her, scarred her beyond reason and not thought twice about it. Cosima was angry, and she was going to do something about it.

Their lips meshed and tongues clashed heatedly, almost sloppily in such a rushed manner, but Cosima didn't care. It felt _good._ She had the upper hand here, she dictated where this was doing, and she knew it. One of her hands wrapped around Delphine's neck, wrangling her in closer, making her more easily accessible. Their breathing was labored and heavy in the air as Cosima tore away, but only to drag her teeth over the other woman's neck, stepping into her as she pushed her back onto the bed.

Delphine fell off her feet and stared up at the other woman in amazement and wonder. What was happening? Was she really that drunk? Was this all a dream? It just seemed as though there was no reality in which Cosima Niehaus was standing in front of her, topless, shrouded in the shadows and moonlight that had poured in from every window in the room.

Wordlessly, Cosima made her way forward, sliding onto Delphine's lap, her hands finding her neck and loose blonde curls, pulling her in for another heated kiss, one that caused Delphine to whimper in such a way that rattled Cosima's teeth and caused her breath to hitch in her chest. She hated that they still had that electrifying chemistry, that it was like the first time they'd crossed that line when they were only sixteen. How was a flame that had been extinguished so long ago still burning so impossibly bright?

With a bit of force, Cos pushed the blonde to her back on the bed and instantly went for her neck, digging her teeth into the tender flesh, nibbling along the hollow of her throat as it vibrated beneath the touch of dentals and lips with Delphine's moans and whimpers. Her hands roamed Delphine's body, feeling out every curve that was hugged by that impossibly incredible dress. The cool metal of the rings on her fingers made contact with, first, the outside of Delphine's thigh, brushing toward the top and then, tauntingly sweeping toward the inside, causing her to cry out desperately.

"Cosima, _Cosima, please,"_ she begged breathlessly.

Their lips met in another passionate liplock as Cosima's fingers tangoed their way up the insides of the blonde's thigh, just barely pushing aside the underwear that were in her way. Delphine physically shook beneath her touch, and while part of her was brainstorming of ways to turn this in her favor, there was another part of her that was so enthralled with the present, that was maybe a little okay with this hate-sex thing that had sort of just fallen into her lap. Is that what it was? She wasn't even sure. All she was certain of was that Delphine's lips tasted like wine and tequila and her body was a map that Cosima could never erase from her memory.

Her lips kissed at anything they could reach, from Delphine's lips to her neck and collarbone, even pulling down the top of her dress for better access to her breasts, working every available inch of her skin to her advantage.

"_Harder, god, please, harder,"_ Delphine moaned hopelessly against Cosima's lips when they met again for another hot but sloppy kiss, which was only so primarily because of her intoxication. Her breath hitched and her hips bucked upward into the brunette's touch, a desperate whine sounding low in her throat. She, too, was completely unsure of how they had landed in such a predicament, but she wasn't one to question it, especially with the taste of Cosima's lips on her tongue.

Cosima was hyper-alert, paying attention to every twitch and jerk, trying to recall so many cues that had long since been buried beneath the surface. As Delphine pressed her nails into Cosima's back, though, Cos found the cue she was looking for to make the decision she had been debating heavily since the moment she had kissed Delphine.

Without a second thought, Cosima pulled her hand back and picked herself up from the bed. She located the items of clothing Delphine had retrieved for her and pulled them on, retying her tie before she started on the buttons. Delphine was still on the bed, sitting up, with a moderate look of horror on her face. "Cosima!" She cried out angrily, desperately.

As Cosima finished buttoning the shirt and tucked it in, throwing on the vest, she lifted her head to take in the other woman, a wickedly deviant smirk on her lips. She reached up to adjust her glasses and, in that ever-so-classic cosima way, her lip dipped to the bottom right side and her brow hiked.

"What's the matter Delphine?" She asked, a thick cord of faux-sincerity wrapping tightly around her words. "It really sucks waiting for something that's just never going to come, doesn't it?" And with that, she adjusted her tie, turned on her heel, and shut the door behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

"Where the hell have you been?" Lennox hissed as he leaned over the bar toward Cosima, sliding a new tray over the finished cedar bar top before filling it with glasses. "Quinten's about to have a panic attack because you disap- What the hell are you wearing?"

Instantly, Cosima felt hot under his burning gaze, like she had all of the time in the world to explain to him what had just unraveled in the last fifteen minutes of her life, but had absolutely no desire to do so at that moment in time. Sure, Lenny was that type, the one she could talk to, but it was nor the time or the place. "The host of the party slammed into me," she responded flatly, trying to keep the eagerness out of her tone to divulge the insane clusterfuck that had happened. "So she had something that worked close enough with the uniforms. She offered." Cosima shrugged her shoulders, but could quite literally feel the heat crawling onto her cheeks, bringing with it a mild pink dusting that she knew would be impossible to hide if it flourished into a darker shade. "Can you pour a little faster? Jeez." She kept her chin tucked as she spoke, but she knew that she was busted even before he looked up at her.

"Oh-ho-ho, would you look at that?" he countered smugly. "Someone's in a big ol' hurry all of a sudden." She lifted her head in response to his words and found something she knew she would: him grinning like the little shit he was. "New clothes, red cheeks, and an inability to look me in the eye for longer than ten seconds. You've got some s'plainin' to do, missy."

"I hate you," she teased, picking up the tray and moving it to balance it on her palm. "What time is it, anyway?" Her inquiry came with a hike of her brow and a slight tip of her lips, as if to reassure him that she harbored no ill feelings toward him as her words had implied, but she was certain he was already too aware of that fact.

"Almost time to close up shop. One forty five. Jamie said shut the bar down at two and if everyone pitches in with cleanup at two fifteen, we can all be done and on our way by two forty five." Cosima used her free hand to manage a small fist pump of excitement and Lennox rolled his eyes with a bristly laugh, shooing her off with the wave of a towel.

Part of her was about to burst at the seams; she wanted to tell him what she had done, how _she_ had been the one taking charge of a situation that had once rendered her helpless. They had spent too many nights on the roof, passing a joint back and forth between them, discussing plausibility and responsibility in life, and how bad things only truly happened if the person they happened to let them happen. There was always a way, a chance that there could be defiance. They spoke too often about accountability, about taking charge and being responsible for how good life could be, and that was what Cosima was doing. She had been wounded for far too long and had healed on her own accord. No one helped her, no one told her it was going to be okay. She'd been forced to do that alone, and she had turned out just fine. Perhaps become a little hardened to the ways of the world was just a side effect that truly wasn't that bad.

The look of Delphine's features, contorted as she sat shocked and horrified across the room had been burned into Cosima's mind; it was like a snapshot of vindication and redemption, to some degree. Cos had never really been the revenge type, and maybe that was a partial reason as to why she didn't view what she had done to Delphine as revenge. No, revenge would have been accepting her with open arms, letting her fall in love all over again, and then packing up for the east coast one bright and sunny morning. No, this wasn't about revenge- well, completely. This was about understanding. Delphine was going to understand one way or another that one did not simply get to walk back into a life the exact same way they walked out of it, and Cosima was going to make damn sure of it.

* * *

Recovery, especially such a necessarily quick one, was not an easy feat for Delphine in her given state. Truthfully, she was drunk, point blank. There was no getting around it, or the way it made her feel so hollow and sad to watch Cosima toddle off out the door, surely feeling smug and proud of herself. For a few elongated moments, the alcohol had swayed Delphine's thinking, especially the moment Cosima had taken hold of her face. _Could this be reconciliation? _she'd pondered briefly, but then Cosima had kissed her and nothing made sense. She was more than just drunk, she had been overly intoxicated with the reminiscent taste of the other woman's lips and every single blip of memory it brought bubbling back to the surface. It was causing her head to swim and her heart to drown. It was as if there had not been a day between them, let alone eight years worth, in those brief moments where Delphine had fallen prey to her human desire to be forgiven without having to work for it.

Quite literally, though, it was all gone in the absolute blink of an eye. It evaporated right in front of her face, and she was left feeling confused and completely tanked. The only solution? Freshen up and drink more. She got to her feet and headed for the door on slightly unsteady Jimmy Choo clad feet, but as she opened it with every intention of heading to the washroom to clean up a bit, she was halted in the threshold as Dom came around the corner.

"Whoaaa, what in the world happened to you?" he questioned as he stooped down to place the two champagne flutes he had in his hands on the ground so that he could better assess the damage - so to speak. He reached up, tucking several loose curls behind her ear before he moved down to take her by the arms, pulling her gently closer to him. He made a face as he got a whiff of the alcohol on her breath, but immediately smiled. "You're trashed. But I couldn't let you end the night without one last toast."

Delphine's brow furrowed and she looked up at him, confused. "End the night? What..." she paused, rubbing at her eyes, as if she hoped it would offer some clarity, "time is it?" As she peered back at Dom, he looked bewildered.

"Doll, it's ten til two. They just served last round. I was wondering what happened to you. Y'know, the whole, offering some random waitress your own wardrobe after you doused her in red wine thing was odd." He pursed his lips slightly, picking up the flutes and placing one in her hand. "She wasn't very nice."

_But she is! She **is** nice! She's the nicest, the kindest, the bravest, the smartest in the entire world! Or... she **was** all of those things, once upon a time._ Delphine choked back the words; he would ask questions she was in no state of mind to answer. "It was my fault," she returned softly, slowly migrating back into the room to sit on the edge of her bed, where once more, Dom followed. Somehow, in the dimly lit room, as she looked down into the champagne flute, the only thing she could see was the color of Cosima's eyes. It didn't make sense, it wasn't practical or possible, but she couldn't shake it. "I wasn't... I am so clumsy. I... Thought I could make it right." Her voice trembled over her words and Dominic reached for her empty hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you alright, darling?" he questioned, an undeniable softness and concern to his words.

"Oui, oui," she answered immediately, wiping at her face to rid her vast cheekscape of the few specks of rain that started to cure the drought, but weren't permitted the privilege. "I have just had far too much to drink," she admitted, though her gaze still lingered on the flute in her hand. "Though..." she started, glancing up at him with a tinge of a smile. "Perhaps a night cap couldn't hurt."

He let her hand slip from his and he gave her knee a reaffirming squeeze with the nod of his head, holding up his champagne flute to toast. Their glasses came together with a soft 'clink' and as she started to down the contents of the flute in one go, her weight shifted to the side until she was nestled into Dom, his arm draping over her as his eyes sparkled in amusement at her feat.

"You'll stay tonight, won't you?" she asked him in something that almost resembled a whimper, but trembled just a bit less.

"Of course, darling. Who else is going to hold your hair in a couple of hours?"

* * *

"Shhhhhhh! Shut up! It's that time of night!" Everyone had, per usual post-event shenanigans, taken their spots in a circle around Quin's living room as Cosima and Lennox sat in the center across from one another, a small folding tray propped up on an empty box between them. Cosima was doing everything in her power not to laugh as Lennox attempted to stare her down, intimidate her. He was about as intimidating as a teddy bear. Quin made one last round through the circle, holding a snapback upside down as everyone announced their bets; how much and on who and tossed their cash into the hat.

Lennox reached forward and picked up the small metal cylinder, unscrewing it to dump the aromatic leafy contents out onto the smooth surface of the tray. On either side of the pile were two cigarillos- one pineapple White Owl, per Cosima, and one blueberry Swisher, per Lennox- that were still intact. Quin moved toward the center to evenly split the weed pile between the two of them. "Alright you two, you know the rules: No splitters, and first one done gets a free quarter of... I don't even fuckin' know what it's called, but it's good shit. Ready?"

"Hope you've been practicing, Lennyboy, because if this is anywhere near a replay of last time, I should grab the mop to wipe up your tears now so I'm prepared." She was grinning from ear to ear as his eyes narrowed at her.

"You are so full of it," he grumbled under his breath. She was still grinning happily as they raised their hands to hover over the tray.

"Alright. Go!"

The room errupted into cheers and for a moment, it startled Cosima, though she knew it shouldn't have. It was like this every time they got drunk and decided to place bets on who could roll a blunt faster. Her hands, while frequently paving their own way in her surrounding space, knew exactly what to do. She grabbed hold of the cigarillo and wet it by running it along her tongue, creating a damp spot she could dig into with her nails.

She was methodical, certain as she worked, not even caring to pay attention to what Lennox was doing or how fast he was working. Her thumbnails dipped along the moistened strip of cigar, prying it gingerly apart. As she ripped it the full length, she laughed triumphantly, scooping out the guts into a plastic bag. Her head lifted to see that Lenny was still fumbling with splitting the shell, his giant sausage fingers getting in his own way. "C'mon, Lenny, gotta catch up!" she goaded him, her chin tucking back toward her chin as she set back to work. Her fingers were nimble as she picked up a few pinches of green, filling the hollowed shell. Despite all she cheers and taunting going on around them, she was completely honed in on a skill she had perfected over the years.

Evening out the accumulated pile, she moved to one end, using her thumbs to tuck in the edge of the shell while simultaneously licking the top part to keep it moist enough to stick. Her index fingers slid up the back side of the shell and her thumbs rocked along the bottom, causing it to roll in on itself. She repeated the process as she worked her way down the length of the shell, sealing it off with a final swipe of her tongue. "Done and pearled!" she exclaimed, holding it up into the air triumphantly. Lennox groaned, but kept working- truth be told, he had only been perhaps ten second behind Cosima's lead; he _was_ getting better.

"I hate you so much," he grunted at her, but she just reached across the small space and gave his scruffy cheek a loving pat. She knew as well as he did that that phrase in particular was their form of 'I love and adore you but i would also like to give you a wedgie.'

"No you don't, now c'mon, finish up." She was still beaming as she watched him with interest, observing his technique as he sealed up his blunt and held it out for her to examine. "Perfect. Now, just work on your speed and _I _might be bumming pot off of _you_ soon."

After a few heckled cries to 'blow down the damn house already!' they both grinned, and Cosima produced a Zippo, holding it out bearing a flame in between them. They both singed the ends in the dancing fire until a couple of small tendrils of smoke curled up into the air. She extinguished the lighter and slipped it back into her pocket, bringing the blunt to her lips, the thick but smooth smoke rolling seamlessly over her tongue and down to her throat. Her arm jutted out toward whoever was behind her to pass it off as a serene smile curled her lips, maintaining the capacity of her lungs, finally exhaling a moment later.

As the chatter amongst friends started to grow louder, Cosima couldn't keep herself from looking around, from taking in the faces of all of her friends, of her _family._ This was what she had worked for, what she succeeded in achieving. While not all of the thoughts of her encounters with Delphine from the day had entirely vacated her mind, they were slowly beginning to slip away with each passing moment. This was what she needed. She needed therapy. She needed peace. Most of all, she needed family.

The night wore on- or, rather, morning- and it had drawn to a close for Cosima and Lennox around four thirty when they decided to grab a cab together to save a bit of change. She'd taken the stairs with him- stumbling and giggling the entire time- and when he started to depart at his floor, she tugged on his sleeve. "Roof? I mean, I did just wipe the floor with your ass for a quarter. The least I can do is pack up a bowl to remedy the humiliation."

He had, with a eye-squinting grin, nodded and agreed, following her to her apartment, and then up the narrow and rickety staircase to the roof. They took their usual spots on the ledge, looking over the city splayed out before them, the way it was taking its first morning breaths, waiting patiently for the sun to kiss the horizon. She cradled the small blue and purple blown glass pipe in the palm of her hand before bringing it up to her mouth, ashing the top layer of pot as her thumb released from the carb on the side. She handed it over to him as she exhaled, her mind turning circles.

"How many times have you seen me shirtless?" she posed suddenly, though she didn't turn to look at him.

"What the hell, Cosima?!" he asked in response, laughing as the smoke expelled from his mouth and nostrils at the same time, causing him to cough into his laughter.

"I'm serious," she said in a bit of a pout, playfully yanking the bowl away from him. After another hit, she handed it back, raising a brow. "I don't mean naked. Because we both know you're not that lucky. But of all the times we've gone swimming, or worked out, or I've been drunk and taken my shirt off..."

He offered a small shrug, using the metal piece of the lighter to pack down the bowl a bit. "I don't know, I mean, I don't really keep track. What's your logic?"

"All of those times and not once, you've never asked about it." _But she did,_ she thought to herself. _After eight years, she noticed._

Lennox's brow knit together in confusion and he took his hit before turning to her, tilting his head as if to probe further.

She hesitated for a moment before she reached down and lifted up her shirt and even in the dim light of the storm light overhead, he could see it clear as day, as it had so many times before. It was a scar, almost covered by the bottom part of her bra, but it was there. His face softened and his eyes lifted up to hers. "It's your body. Your scars are your story. It's up to you to tell that story, if you ever choose to. It's not up to anyone else to determine when that is."

In that moment, staring at his big, stupid, bearded face, Cosima wanted to cry. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Whatever it might have been, she knew that there was a definite role in her emotions wavering that she could not deny, and that was Delphine.

"When I was little, like really young, I made a friend, a really good friend.. As you probably have gathered by now, growing up wasn't exactly easy for me. My parents struggled and all I wanted was to not go through what they did. I stayed out too late most nights, which got me in trouble a lot, but it was worth it not to have to be there. " Cosima had taken to looking out at the city, focusing a lot of her attention on just keeping her voice even. "My mom was a junkie and so it was just easier that way. My dad was never around; he was either at poker tables or passing out at bars most nights. The only solace I really had in that shit-strewn city was my best friend, who eventually became the love of my life." She took a long, slow drag from the bowl and passed it back to him, her jaw setting firmly.

"Eight years ago... eight years yesterday, actually, she moved away. Her dad met someone who could really do it, you know? Someone who gave them the life I'm sure he wanted for them when they left France." Cosima's tone became strangled over some of her words and as a comforting gesture, Lennox's hand instantly picked up to rub at her back, never having really seen such a side to Cosima before. "She kissed me and promised me that she'd come back. She promised me she wouldn't leave me behind." Her hands folded over each other in her lap and she felt so open and exposed. Of course she trusted Lenny with her life, but the truth was, this was unknown territory for her. She'd never even really let herself feel much over the whole thing, just because she knew that she could lose herself in it, but hearing it from her own lips? That was something she had never truly braced herself for.

"I waited. For four years, I waited, like an idiot. It took my whole world falling apart for me to wake up and realize that I was holding onto a hope that didn't exist with justification anymore." Her lip quivered and she inhaled slowly, squeezing her eyes shut. "When I was twenty, I was on my way home from classes at community college. I'd walked those roads a million and six times before. I don't even remember it, really. I heard a bunch of screaming and blaringly loud music, but then... nothing." At this, Lennox took notice to the fact that Cosima had started to visibly shake.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You don't have to..." he assured her softly, but she shook her head and dismissed his concern.

"I woke up six months later in a hospital bed. Turns out, I was walking home right in the middle of a gang fight, caught a stray bullet to the chest. Punctured and collapsed a lung and kept me in a coma for nearly half a year. After six months of therapy and finishing my Bachelor's, I got accepted for the transfer to Berkeley. And, well, you know the rest."

"Yes, of course," he agreed with a sad smile. Hearing her story, knowing why she was the way she was, it shed a whole new light on her in his eyes. "But, Cos, why are you telling me all of this?"

She smiled an impossibly sad smile and lifted her chin to look up at him. "Because for the first time in eight years, I saw her yesterday. And as much as every other part of me wants to hate her, just seeing her reminded my heart of just how much I loved her."

Lennox hugged her in closer to his side, tucking her head under his chin. "We love the ones who hurt us the most," he whispered sadly, and she hated to know just how right he was.


End file.
